The Christmas of the Ice Pixies
by TLX
Summary: Charlie Weasley wasn't looking forward to Christmas and seeing his ex-girlfriend. Someone tripping the wards in the mountains on the Romanian Reserve changed not only Christmas but everything for him. Written as part of the 2015 Teachers' Lounge Holiday Exchange for Camilla Blue by MuggleBeene.


_Romanian Dragon Preserve, 24 December, 2005_

It was obvious that a storm was brewing; even the most inexperienced Dragon Keepers would know that, but Charlie Weasley was not inexperienced. He had been working on the preserve for years, slogging through the less desirable tasks and duties until finally making it to his current station, the second-in-command. That position had come with quite a bit of sacrifice on his part, but then one didn't take a job at the preserve for the benefits. There were benefits, though, but justifying those to the normal witch and wizard wasn't an easy thing to do. It was even harder justifying it to his mother, all the holidays that he'd missed. Not only holidays, but certain life events in the Weasley family simply passed him by, only notified after the fact by a long-distance owl.

He sat on the Thrum, careful to keep it calm, as the beast was well aware of the upcoming storm. He'd cautioned rookie keepers multiple times that when in doubt to trust their Thrum. He patted it softly on the head between the two massive, curling black horns to keep it steady, and Runt responded as always, settling down slightly, his breathing coming in fewer clouds of vapour from the nostrils. Runt was a good Thrum, the best-trained of the lot, which wasn't surprising since Charlie had raised him from a whelp. He still marvelled at his mount, a magical creature he'd never learned about at Hogwarts, what seemed a combination of a mountain goat and a horse but with some magical ability thrown in; they were dead useful, especially up in the rocky and forbidding parts of the Carpathians. More than that, though, the dragons didn't think of them as food like regular goats and horses, making them much better for the tasks at hand. And Runt was special, as most Thrums didn't care who rode them, but the only keeper that was ever allowed to ride Runt was Charlie. The smallest of the whelps he'd been given little chance to survive, but Charlie had visited him as often as possible, bringing him extra food and stroking his thick, coarse fur, speaking in a soft voice. It must have worked because Runt was an ironic name; the Thrum was the largest of the herd kept at the reserve.

A faint buzz jolted Charlie to attention from his reverie regarding his mount, and that meant one thing; someone was contacting him from the main lodge. He pulled off a fur glove with his teeth, unfastened the top button of his coat made of Thrum wool and reached in for the communication mirror. As always he chuckled slightly when he saw the logo on top; the dragon reserve logo but with the WWW of George's shop embossed on the flip side. Leave it to his brother to take something so small and develop it for mass production and massive profit. The only drawback was that it wasn't like the Muggle mobile phones he'd heard about in one of George's letters because the mirror only worked on a channel for the reserve, something that his mum was still nagging George about.

He flipped open the mirror and saw Yvgeny's face. "Weasley."

"Good, you're still out." The Head Keeper smiled. "Got something odd on the wards. Might be a poacher hoping we were all in our Christmas cups. Ten clicks to the north, off by the border. I have to ask but I know the answer, friend. You have your kit, yes?"

Charlie nodded. "Strapped on the back of Runt as always. You think it might be Muggles? This far out?"

Yvgeny shrugged. "It is possible, you know the process." He winked at Charlie. "Magda is here for the holiday. Perhaps you could patch things up? Christmas miracle?"

He sighed deeply. "No, that's as over as over can be, mate. I'm heading off now. Keep her away when I get back, that didn't end well."

"Well?" The head keeper laughed. "She only stopped throwing things at you because she ran out of dishes."

"Right." Charlie nodded. "I remember. Ok, I'll ping you when I find something. Out."

He snapped the mirror together, ending the session, and stuffed it back into his shirt pocket. Once he'd buttoned up the coat again he leaned back and reached into the long, cylindrical container strapped behind Runt's saddle. The Muggle rifle hadn't been fired in ages but the maintenance charms still held. After checking that the safety was on and the clip was loaded he slung the strap over his head and one shoulder. He wasn't bad with the rifle, much better with his wand, but Muggles seemed to respect the rifle.

Sliding his wand out of the sleeve on the outside of his coat he pointed it ahead of him and cast the location spell that was tied to the wards; it would lead him in the direction of the last contact on the wards, a small, glowing red arrow that seemed to hover in front of Runt's head a few meters. The wind picked up and the beginnings of snow began to spit against his face. He put the glove back on and leaned over Runt's head. "Follow, boy."

With a grunt and a whuff of breath the Thrum rocked back and forth slightly, freeing his massive hooves from the snow, and set off at a slow, but steady pace. Charlie looked at the sky; if it didn't let up soon, or if he didn't find the reason for the anomaly in the wards he knew that it might be Christmas for him in the small emergency tent.

Runt's pace never wavered as they slogged through the ever-deepening snow. Of course the anomaly would have to be in one of the more remote, forbidding locations. What made him nervous, though, was that he was getting close to the Ukrainian Ironbelly hibernation spots; despite the fact that they were the most hot-blooded of all dragons, their natural habitat some of the more treacherous locations, they tended to hole up for the winter. Stories of keepers accidentally disturbing a hibernating Ironbelly were legendary, illustrations used in training new keepers. He'd given that particular lecture before to the rookies and was loath to have to use any of the supposed textbook techniques for survival. And survival was at the forefront of his mind, as the wind had become a living thing, trying to pull him out of the saddle, assisted by the incessant snowfall that had covered Runt's outer fur as well as him. He slipped the charmed goggles up to his head from around his neck, glad that not only did they keep from fogging up in this horrid weather but also gave him a small assist in seeing his way, as night had fallen hard. As always, though, Runt kept moving forward, following the red arrow, up and up, through treacherous parts of the mountain, at one point almost vertical for a moment causing Charlie to tighten his knees against the side of his mount.

And then, right before they were out of the tree line, Runt gave an excited whuff. He'd smelled something. Not a dragon, as Runt ignored them, one of the only animals in the world that didn't give a shit about dragons, but something else. As Runt picked up the pace, snow billowing out from the side as his legs moved through the drifts, Charlie smelled it too; fire. Someone had actually built a fire in this snowstorm. That wasn't good, as the poachers never built a fire in fear of alerting the keepers. It had to be a Muggle, but what Muggle would be all the way out here on Christmas Eve?

As Runt made his way over a rise and began to go down a very steep incline Charlie's brow furrowed; no Muggle could have done that. A bright red tent big enough for several people sat in a clearing that held no snow; a perfect circle surrounded the tent, something that only could have been done by a magical. But why would the magical have build a fire outside? And then the tent flap opened and a shadowy figure stepped out, zipped up the flap and went over to the fire. As he got closer he pulled down the goggles, ceasing the light illumination charm because before that all he could see were indistinct shapes due to the brightness of the fire. Now he could see more clearly, a figure bundled up against the cold put a pot over the fire and stirred it slightly.

He pulled Runt to a halt, trying to decide on his course of action. Procedure was vague at this point; usually by now he would have known whether to unsling his rifle or take out his wand, but the signals were mixed. He could cast an Obliviation spell later if needed, but the paperwork after that would be horrible. The lack of snow around the tent made the decision for him, though, and he pulled out his wand and sent up the spell to cast a ball of red light above him in the air.

"Warning! You are currently on the Romanian Dragon Reserve. This area is off limits."

Usually at this point any poachers would scramble for their wands, Apparate away or trigger a portkey, but the figure ahead stood up and waved at him. He nudged Runt in the sides to move forward. If the person in front of him was a poacher it was possibly the worst poacher in the world. That didn't mean he could relax, though, so he kept his wand at the ready. As the Thrum moved closer he could tell that the figure in front of him, despite the bulk of the heavy coat, wasn't a very big person. His nerves were still on edge, though, as instead of trying to run or do anything the person waved again, welcoming him in. As it might possibly be a trick he tightened his grip on the wand and blinked several times to try and get a good look through all the wind and snow.

"Hello! The stew's not ready yet but you can wait if you'd like."

Female. It was a female. Charlie edged Runt closer until he felt the change in the Thrum's gait as it left the snow for the clearing. Slipping his feet out of the stirrups he dismounted, still wary. The woman wore an oddly patterned fur coat, stripes of some sort, and pushed back the hood to reveal a bright blue stocking cap with a yellow pom-pom on top. She also had on goggles that looked like the ones he wore, which struck him as odd; the goggles were another 'toy' from his brother's shop and were not commercially available.

He stopped a few meters away from Runt. "You are in a restricted area of the Romanian Dragon Reserve. State your name and your business."

"Oh." She tilted her head to the side. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I thought that was a kilometre away. I'm researching Romanian Ice Pixies. They're very rare, you know. Daddy says they give birth in water just above freezing, but I'm not sure that's possible."

Whatever response he had planned to give died on Charlie's lips. _Romanian Ice Pixies?_ He'd found out about a lot of different magical beasts and creatures in his time, especially those native to Romania, but he'd never heard of Ice Pixies, even in legend or children's stories.

Before he could say anything she stepped forward. "I'm ever so sorry. Oh. And my name is Luna Lovegood. What's yours?"

"Luna?" Charlie pulled down the hood of his coat.

"Charlie Weasley!" Luna seemed to bounce slightly on her toes. "You got my pixie!"

"Your what?"

"My pixie. I've been training them to send messages like owls, but I'm not sure they take direction very well. I sent Benny with your message a month ago." Her voice took on a serious tone. "You have to plan ahead because they don't fly as fast as owls. Tiny wings, you know." She pulled her goggles so they hung around her neck. "I can see by your face my experiment wasn't successful. That's so disappointing, Benny was the best one, too."

"Luna..." Charlie took a deep breath. "I never got any message. What did it say?"

"That I accepted your offer. Here I am!"

Charlie stood there, confused. It was like his brother Ron always, said; when speaking to Luna Lovegood most people had no idea whatsoever what was going on.

-ooo-

The tent was nothing like the magical tents they used out on the reserve. Those tents were spartan, at best, only providing the bare minimum required to provide shelter to keepers who needed to stay out for whatever reason. Luna's tent was...full of stuff. A large cabinet comprised of little drawers stood against one wall, while a sitting room of sorts off to the side held a complete mish-mash of furniture. A garish, flowered sofa sat across from a wooden rocking chair and a bean bag chair, separated by a barn door with antlers from some animal serving as legs that acted as a coffee table. A battered rolltop desk resided in a little alcove, a upside-down plastic Muggle bucket apparently being used as a chair. Underneath everything were oriental rugs of all sorts of colours and patterns, laid on top of each other at the edges to form something like a carpet. As he watched Luna putter about in the small kitchen over the cooker he found his eyes drawn to two things; first it was the lighting, as oil lamps that would have been used in Arabian Nights hung all over the place, giving off warm light, and then it was the bedroom. A large bed was covered with a green and purple plaid duvet, but that wasn't the unusual part. Well, not that everything wasn't unusual, but he was pretty sure that most people didn't have a row of little cages with pixies inside next to their bed.

He made his way to the rocking chair and sat down, unbuttoning his coat. Before he could say a word Luna thrust a cup of tea into his hands.

"There." She sat on the sofa, placed her tea cup on the coffee table and took off her boots, tucking her feet under her to the side. "Now you've got a cup of tea. Hermione says that I should start with tea when talking to people, it helps put them at ease. Are you feeling more at ease, Charlie?"

He opened his mouth to reply, stopped, let out a breath of slight exasperation and nodded. "I believe so, thank you."

"Good!" Luna beamed and then reached into the pocket of her cardigan, retrieving a pair of tortoiseshell glasses, and put them on. "Now I can see you better. You're starting to go grey, Charlie."

"Yeah. I'm aware." He rubbed an eyebrow and shook his head. "Sorry, I'm trying to remember when I invited you to the reserve."

"Ginny and Harry's wedding. It was a lovely wedding, even if I did have to wear that dress. I told Ginny that yellow is a perfectly acceptable colour for a wedding but she insisted on the blue."

He shook his head. "Wait a tic, what do you mean I invited you? Sorry, most of that weekend was a blur."

"You and George _were_ drinking a lot of firewhiskey." She took a sip of tea. "Do you like the glasses? They're new. Ginny says they keep my eyes from bulging. That's why I look so odd in photos, I was trying to see things. Look, they're better now, aren't they?"

He studied the woman before him, because that's what she was now, a woman. Four years ago at his sister's wedding she was still a little girl to him, still the little slip of a thing that came over and played with his sister, but now she was, if he was honest, an attractive woman. She'd done something to her hair, the most obvious thing was that she'd cut it, but instead of looking like grooming was the last thing on her mind it hung down to her shoulders in a smooth, pale wave. And her eyes, from behind the glass of the spectacles, were very blue. "Look great to me."

"Thank you."

Even with magic there was no way to truly isolate the tent from the weather, as a gust of wind and the sound of snow pounding on the fabric took their attention away from the conversation. The weather also reminded Charlie that he needed to contact the Reserve to let them know his status. "Excuse me, I need to report in." He reached into his shirt pocket and brought out the mirror, and said 'Yvgeny.'

The Head Keeper's face appeared in the top part of the mirror. "Charlie, what was it?"

"It's fine, Yvgeny. I know her, it's a witch from England. She's a..." He looked over to Luna. "What..."

"I'm a magical zooloogist. Some prefer the term magizoo but I think that sounds rude."

"Right." He turned back to the mirror. "She's a magical zoologist looking for Ice Pixies. Didn't know she was near the ward line. She's got a tent and will move in the morning." He glanced over to Luna. "You're ok with that, right?"

"Not a good idea." Yvgeny shook his head in the mirror. "Storm is bad, old Ilsa says worse than two years ago. If you and the girl are safe you should stay in place. At least you have better company than Magda for Christmas, no? I send weather report to your notebook. A girl looking for Ice Pixies, only you, Weasley."

"Shit." Charlie closed the mirror and reached into the back pocket of his trousers for the little notebook that all Keepers carried. It was small, a little leather book held closed with a strap, and was able to replicate what was input in the master book. George had been rather irritated that it wasn't one of his products. Charlie flipped it open, past his regular notes, to the back page and watched as a map displayed covered with lines and symbols. Yvgeny and Ilsa were right; this wasn't the run-of-the-mill storm. The snowfall at his location, illuminated by a small pulsing dot, indicated a rather large snowfall. There was no way he would be back at the reserve that night; hopefully the next day.

"That doesn't look good." Luna leaned over him, close.

He looked up and she was very near to him, so near that he could smell that she wore some sort of perfume that was vaguely floral. It was at that moment he also realised that she only wore a v-neck t-shirt under the cardigan. More than that, though, he also realised that she wasn't wearing a bra. He coughed and straightened up in his chair. "Yeah. It's not."

"And we can't Apparate?"

He shook his head. "Not really. Really strong anti-Apparition wards are built into the regular Reserve wards, but then we also pay some of the land-holders around the area for adding some additional wards to their land. Easy money for them and we get to surprise a poacher every now and then when they can't Apparate out."

"Hmmm. Very clever." She stood up and pursed her lips to the side in thought. "Let me see." Without another word she walked into the kitchen and began looking through the cupboard. "I wasn't planning on having guests so I'm afraid there's no Christmas goose. Do you like chili? I have some peppers from Mongolia that are quite spicy."

He put the notebook back in his pocket and sat back in the chair. "I'm a keeper, Luna, we eat just about anything. But tell me, if you've got this kitchen here why in Merlin's name are you cooking stew outside on the fire?"

"Oh." Her face fell slightly. "I always liked doing that but Rolf never liked it."

 _Rolf, right._ Charlie nodded, information from the letters home finally registering. "Where's your husband?"

Luna shook her head. "He's not my husband anymore. He met a witch in Mexico on the Day of the Dead when we were looking for the chupacabra. It's a magical animal, that's why Muggles haven't found it. They do see it, or what if feeds on, so that's why the Muggles know about it. There are a lot of animals in Muggle legends that are real if you know where to look."

"Chupacabra, right. So...Rolf?" His shoulders sank a bit. His mum would be aghast at his manners. "I'm sorry, if you don't want to talk about it you don't have to."

"No, it's fine. Rolf met the witch and decided that he wanted to be with her instead of me. I was sad for a long time, but marriage is a partnership and if one person doesn't want to be a partner then it isn't much of a marriage, is it? That's what Ginny said." She paused. "You know she writes me quite often. I wonder if Harry knows all the things she tells me? I bet he doesn't because sometimes he doesn't come off very well. He can be quite moody, you know."

"Yeah, I know all about that." Charlie took a sip of tea, wishing it was something stronger, as Luna's words hit him a little too close to home. That was one of the reasons that he and Magda, one of the keepers, hadn't lasted.

"That's just part of being in a marriage or a relationship, understanding when people are moody or depressed or off." Luna continued her conversation whilst looking through the cupboard. "I know Ginny and Harry wouldn't want to be with anyone else, even when they're sometimes horrid to one another. I did that for Rolf and it wasn't enough. If people really care about each other they will understand. That's why I don't know where Rolf is. Oh! There's the peppers!" She pulled out a jar with three rather shrunken, tiny peppers. "It's not a goose but I think it'll be very nice."

Once again Charlie was saved from responding by the weather. The wind and snow continued to hammer against the tent, reminding him that even if he was out of the storm he needed to make sure his Thrum was ok. He stood up. "Listen, I need to take Runt's saddle off. I'll be back in a minute."

"It's a Thrum, isn't it? I always wanted to see one. May I join you?"

"Um, sure."

Once they'd bundled up the two headed out of the tent and discovered that whatever spell Luna had done to clear the snow around the tent had failed. The drifts were starting to climb the sides of the tent and the fire, once blazing, had dwindled to a barely spitting, smoking pile of wood. The pot hanging above the remains of the fire was now covered with snow.

"Oh, poo." Luna poked at the pot. "There goes my stew."

"I've got supplies in Runt's pack."

"That's fine, I have plenty. Oh, he's a big one, isn't he?" She looked over to where the Thrum sat in the snow, seemingly oblivious to the snow and cold. "He doesn't mind?"

"Nah." Charlie waded through the snow towards his mount. "They're used to it. The wild ones stay out in stuff like this all the time. Hey, boy." He put his hand on the side of the Thrum and felt the massive head nudge against his side. "I know, I know, sorry, mate. Let me get this off of you." Sliding a hand down under the blanket he loosened the straps and then, grabbing the pommel, lifted the saddle and packs off of the Thrum. "There you go." He turned to Luna. "You wouldn't have any bacon, would you? Usually they can go for ages without eating, and he had his fill earlier this morning, but I give him bacon as a treat."

"I have bacon. Does he like regular bacon or chupacabra bacon?"

"Let's just stick with regular bacon. Gave him some beef jerky one of the American keepers brought back from holiday and the spices gave him the shits for a week. Is chupacabra bacon spicy?"

"Oh yes, it's a delicacy. I'll do a quick fry up since the stew is a failure." She looked over to Runt and ran a hand through his wooly fur, patting him on the head. Without any warning, and without a saddle, she used one of his horns to push herself up on to his back.

Charlie froze; the last time anyone had tried to get on Runt it had ended with three broken bones and a trip to the infirmary. But Runt didn't buck or snort, instead he gave out a soft whuff and burrowed further into the snow.

"I understand why you need a saddle with all that equipment, but I think this is rather comfortable." Luna smiled at him and then scratched Runt between his horns. "Who's a good Thrum, hmmm?"

"Yeah." Charlie rubbed his chin. "He's a good one."

Once back inside Luna began the fry up, the smells reminding Charlie that it had been hours since he'd last eaten. From the looks of it, as she started the beans, it would be a true full-English breakfast, something he hadn't had in ages. Without anything to do he fell back into the routine of the keeper, something that was comforting and, more importantly, kept his mind away from what Luna had said about marriages and relationships. He pulled out the notebook and before he could do another thing Luna handed him a bright pink Muggle ink pen.

"I don't have a quill, sorry."

He shook his head. "It's fine."

"Paperwork?"

Charlie let out a quick, loud laugh. "There's always paperwork. Have to put down my notes about...well, you."

"Make sure you mention my spectacles."

"Absolutely." He mimed writing. _"Contact wears rather fetching spectacles."_

"Thank you." She went back to the kitchen and busied herself at the cooker, humming slightly.

The good thing about having the time to update his report meant that Charlie could focus on something other than the fact that Luna's comments kept hammering at his consciousness. The bad part about having the time to update his report meant that it was soon over and there was nothing to occupy him except watching Luna cook. He kept comparing the girl at Ginny's wedding to the woman in the tent, and it was obvious that Luna had grown up, in more ways that one. He always heard Ginny and Ron mention that every now and then Luna would say something that would cut through all the shite and get to the heart of the matter, even if, as Ron said, she did it in that 'bloody confusing Luna way,' and wondered if she was a seer or had some of the seer's ability. Because, if he was honest with himself, she was right on a lot of levels.

Christmas always made Charlie introspective, as his mum's letters always hinted, not always very subtly, that he should find a woman and settle down. The part that he never told her, or anybody, that his failure was not due to a lack of effort. Besides Magda there had been several women over the years that he'd been involved with, some more serious than others, but he never wrote to his family about them for many reasons. Some, like Magda, he'd come close to telling them but something made him hold off. He'd had several Christmas holidays with the families of the women he'd dated, and it had been fine, but it never really felt comfortable. He always felt that he was on his best behaviour, that he had to be something more than a keeper because his surname was famous worldwide. George had helped reinforce that with his business, but beyond that all of the families wanted to know about Harry, about his brother Fred, about what happened at Hogwarts during that horrible time, and he dutifully told the stories but was always left feeling as if everyone was disappointed.

His thoughtful mood was thankfully disrupted by the arrival of a plate filled with the proper full-English breakfast, even blood sausage which he hadn't had since his last visit back to England. It didn't take more than a few bites for him to realise how much he'd missed it, and more importantly that Luna was a rather good cook. He sat down his fork for a drink of water. "It's wonderful."

"Thank you." Luna edged a piece of toast into her beans. "I had a lot of practise cooking for Daddy."

"How is Xenophilius? How's the Quibbler these days?"

"Doing very well, thank you for asking." Her eyes narrowed and a mischievous look spread across her face. "Daddy is dating a witch. He said that he thought he saw a wild Thestral at her place but I think it was just an excuse to go talk to her. Her name is Margaret and she's a very lovely person from what Daddy's letters say."

"You haven't been back in a while, then?"

"No." She shook her head. "I'm writing a book. It takes me all over the world researching it. My grant was rather generous." She paused and slightly bit her lip. After the pause extended she adjusted her spectacles. "I wouldn't tell anyone normally but I know you'll understand. Harry is the one who gave me the grant. He did it after Rolf left. I'm sure Ginny said something to him and while I was in Sri Lanka trying to figure out if I had the Galleons to get home I got an owl."

"Yup, that's Harry." Charlie speared a sausage. "I know the feeling. Who do you think has helped supplement the funding on the Reserve?"

"That sounds like Harry." Luna nodded. "It makes him happy to help people and after everything that he went through he deserves it. If helping fund my research or the Reserve makes him happy then good for him. And us."

The meal passed with less sensitive topics of conversation, mostly about the Reserve. Surprisingly for Charlie, with Luna's interest in the more fanciful magical animals, she asked rather astute questions regarding dragon breeding, habitat and feeding. Soon, though, the meal was over, the table was cleared and Charlie, ever the Weasley, wouldn't let Luna do the dishes by herself. He stood next to her, dish towel in hand, and dried the plates and silverware as she handed it to him. He knew that he could have used one of Molly's household spells to do everything in minutes but followed Luna's lead without a word.

As the clock began its inexorable turn it became apparent that the next minefield for Charlie would soon be there; where to sleep. He sat on the sofa and did the mental measurements, knowing that his feet would hang off the edge a bit if he didn't charm it a bit larger. Luna must have noticed because she came in from the kitchen and sat down next to him, two bowls in her hands.

"Here. I'm sorry but I'm out of hot fudge, whipped cream and cherries. I hope you like vanilla."

"Ice cream? In this weather?" He took the bowl from her and picked up the spoon.

"But it's perfectly warm in here...oh." She moved next to him on the sofa. "I don't think my warming charms will stay fully powered in this weather."

He hadn't noticed, but she was right. It was getting colder in the tent. The combination of food and everything else had made him oblivious, but now, that she mentioned it, he knew she was right. "I've got some stuff in the pack that we use...shit. It's outside with Runt's saddle under the blanket. I suppose..."

"No, it's ok." She took a spoonful of ice cream. "My bed's quite warm. The duvet is filled with Abyssinian Flongo feathers. Very warm."

"Luna, look..." He sat the spoon into the bowl and turned to her. "I appreciate the offer..."

"Nonsense. You'd freeze on the sofa. You were thinking about sleeping on the sofa, weren't you?"

"Uh, yeah. I was."

"Silly." She took another spoonful and peered over at his bowl. "I could cast a slight warming charm if you like ice cream soup."

His body heat had faintly seeped into the bowl, causing the ice cream to begin to melt. "Maybe I like ice cream soup."

"Well, then, Happy Christmas." She looked distraught for a moment and then brightened. "Here, hold this, I'll be right back." After thrusting her bowl into his hands she went into the bedroom and came back with a small pot that had a plant of some type in it, a thin, spindly little piece of vegetation that terminated in a large bud at the top. "It'll have to do, I didn't know you'd be here for Christmas."

"Luna, you didn't have to do anything for me." He held his hands up to stop her from giving him the pot. "I mean, you had no idea I'd be here tonight. Hell, I had no idea I'd even invited you all those years ago. You don't need to give me anything. Besides, I don't have anything for you."

"You let me sit on Runt."

"No." He laughed. "That was all Runt, not me."

"Fine." She sat the pot on the coffee table. "You can have it tomorrow. It's not Christmas yet. Now let's bundle up, I saved some bacon for Runt."

-ooo-

It was very quiet except for the howling wind, of course. Charlie laid there in what was a truly comfortable bed. Luna hadn't exaggerated, the bed was not only exceedingly comfortable but warm and, to use a word he used to describe Ginny when she was small, snuggly. He shifted his shoulders slightly and adjusted his back, feeling himself sink down further into the bed. More importantly, though, he'd inched as close to the edge of the bed without falling off, giving him a modicum of space between him and Luna.

He laid there, unable to sleep. First, there was the fact that he was in bed with a very intriguing woman. That wasn't a bad thing, but for Charlie usually when he got to this point the goals were fairly obvious. Sex, a bit of cuddling after and then the sleep of the satisfied. When he was in a relationship with a woman there was the shared comfort of being in bed with another person, having her next to him whilst he read, made notes in his notebook or they talked about things, then a good night kiss and off go the lights. But the utter minefield began the moment they decided to go to sleep. As he didn't have any pyjamas he simply slipped out of his trousers, down to his boxers and undershirt and slid into bed as quickly as possible. If he would have thought it out he would have done it after Luna, delaying things until he was sure she was all tucked in, as he couldn't help himself but look as she simply got undressed right by the bed. Initially he did fairly well until she hopped on one foot to get off a sock and then had to turn his face away and think about anything else. But now he could actually feel her breathing against the mattress, steady and even. He snuck a hand out from under the mass of blankets and quilts and the duvet to slide a hand next to his ear, taking his pulse. Much more rapid than he expected.

"Charlie?"

He swallowed. Hard. "Yeah?"

"You aren't asleep, are you?"

He laughed quietly. "No, I'm not. Are you?"

"No." Her tone was matter of fact. "I'm worried." In the pause she continued on, in a rush. "About the pixies. I can add to the warming spells on the blankets over their little cages but I'm afraid that won't be enough. Would you mind helping me?"

He shrugged. "No, not at all."

"Oh!" Her voice was bright, the tone of surprise. "Thank you so much."

Before Charlie could ask what he could do to help she acted. She sat up, reached under her pillow and took out her wand and flicked on one of the lamps at half-power, giving the room a faint, warm light. Then, all at once, she waved her wand at the rows of pixie cages, opening ever single little door simultaneously. Again, unable to speak, he watched as she lifted up the top quilt on the bed and every single pixie flew down and began to burrow itself in between the quilt and the duvet. Unfortunately for Charlie his warm-blooded nature was too much of a draw and quite a few of the pixies decided to burrow into the covers directly on top of him, giving him a rather odd sensation.

"Oh look, they like you!" Luna leaned over next to him, propping herself up on one arm. "They're very sensitive you know. Well, regarding feelings. Otherwise they're very hardy. I ran one over with a Muggle bicycle I purchased in Essex and while he was rather cross with me it didn't hurt him physically. Don't worry, if you roll over in the middle of the night they won't care."

Charlie reached up and plucked a pixie by the shoulders, pinching it slightly between his fingers, as the little blighter had tried to burrow in between the duvet and his beard. Flicking it over towards Luna he also propped himself up on an elbow and looked at her. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"It is the best way for them to stay warm. You've done things for dragons, haven't you?"

His arguments died in his mouth because he, in fact, had done some rather unusual things in the care of dragons. Eventually he sighed. "Ok, fine, but if any of them get in my beard I'm not going to be gentle."

Luna nodded. "I'm sure you're very good at being gentle when you need to be."

"Right."

She smiled at him. "It can be my Christmas present. It's after midnight. Happy Christmas, Charlie."

"All right, you win. How could I turn that down. Happy Christmas, Luna."

She sat up and clapped her hands. "Oh good, I've been waiting to see what this will be." Reaching over on the side of the bed she took out the little pot with the spindly plant in the middle. "Here. It was a gift from Neville. He sent me two of them, but he didn't know that Rolf had left. They're Necessary Plants."

"It's a what?" Charlie looked down in the dim light at the scrawny little vegetation that seemed only marginally better than a weed. "You had another one?"

"Mmm-hmm." She reached over and put on her spectacles. "I don't know the proper name for them, it was in the note Neville sent and right after I read it Rolf tore it up. I think he was always jealous that Neville and I dated for a bit. It's quite silly, as Neville and Hannah are very happy together. We both have blond hair but Hannah's boobies are much bigger than mine."

"Pffffft." Charlie exhaled deeply and rubbed his face with a hand. "I'll take your word for it. So, the plant?"

"Oh, it's quite amazing. Very rare. They bloom once and die, leaving seeds for the next generation. Usually. That's not uncommon, several magical plants do that, but what kind of bloom they are changes based on the need of the person who has the plant. Mine was dittany which was quite helpful as I'd fallen into a ravine and scratched myself horribly. I did end up with a scar, and while it isn't as dramatic as Harry's I think it's interesting. Would you like to see?"

"Um, sure." He chuckled. "Got a few scars myself. Kind of a competition on the reserve. Didn't say it was a smart competition, mind."

"Oooh. That sounds painful. But never mind, hold the plant, I'll be back in a moment!" She thrust the little pot into his hand, tossed the covers aside which led to a series of pixie complaints and walked into the little kitchen.

Again Charlie felt he should probably look away but couldn't, as she walked away from him, hips swaying ever-so-wonderfully, the bottom of the v-neck t-shirt _just_ covering her bum. And then when she turned back to the bed he saw her face, an expression of glee obvious but there was something more there, something akin to relief.

"Here!" She handed him a little flask of water, stoppered by a loose cork. "Any guesses?" She sat in front of him, t-shirt pulled over her knees. "You don't have a headache, do you?"

"What? No, no headache. Just thinking." He popped the cork on the little flask and sat it on the table , having to reach past Luna to do so. "I have no idea what it would be. So they're different every time, huh?"

"I think so, from what I remember of Neville's letter. He found it in Sri Lanka, I think."

"Ok, here goes." Charlie tipped the flask up and let the small amount of water wash over the plant, settle along the top of the soil and then penetrate past the top layer, turning the dry dirt a much darker colour. He watched as nothing seemed to happen. "How long?"

"Hmmm." Luna scooted closer. "I'm not sure. Mine was rather fast but I think that was because I was bleeding. I can show you my scar while we wait but I see one of yours. Right there." She leaned forward and put her index finger alongside the collar of Charlie's t-shirt. "What happened?"

"Huh?" He reached up and rubbed his neck for a moment. "Oh, that? I forgot about that one. No big story there, Bill and I were little and were in Dad's shed. Bill was being an arse so I threw a Muggle tool at him and he threw one back at me. I threw it first but he hit me so he got in trouble, not me." He shook his head. "And now Bill's got kids that age. Older, even."

"It must be nice to have brothers and a sister." Luna leaned up against the pillow. "Daddy said that he and Mummy wanted to have more but it just didn't happen. And then it was impossible."

"Hey..." Charlie moved a bit closer. "It's Christmas, remember? Happy thoughts."

"But it is a happy thought, that Mummy and Daddy wanted to have more children. Yes, it is sad that it didn't happen but it is rather comforting to know that they loved each other very much." After a long bit of silence Luna took off her spectacles. "Maybe it won't bloom at night."

"I don't know." Charlie picked up the pot and tapped it on the side. "So what's necessary..."

"Oh! Look!" Luna moved closer. "It's starting!"

A little bud began forming at the top of the plant, soon joined by another, and another and then...it stopped.

"Hmmm. Maybe it's just tired."

Charlie cocked his head and gave her a confused look. "Plants can be tired?"

"Or maybe it's too cold right now. Let's see what happens in the morning. Put it by your side of the bed and we'll check it in the morning. Or later this morning, since it's so early. Oh, here's my scar." She pulled the neck of her t-shirt down and thankfully, for Charlie's sake, stopped right above her breasts. A small, red scar in a line about the size of a Gnut was barely visible. "I fell out of a tree in Tunisia."

"Not too bad." Charlie coughed. "Let's get some sleep."

Sleep would definitely be a good thing after that so once again Charlie burrowed into the duvet, quilt and multitude of blankets, only stopping to readjust and move two pixies out from under the small of his back. Madness, sleeping with bleeding pixies, he was sure George would get a kick out of this story. And then his thoughts paused; would he ever tell them the story? For some reason he didn't want to share the events of the night with his family, not because he was ashamed of being with Luna. The girl was very intelligent, obviously the Sorting Hat got that part right when it put her in Ravenclaw. And then he realised why his gut said not to share the story; he didn't want to hurt her. She'd taken him in, even if she was the bloody reason he was here on Christmas Eve, now very early on Christmas morning, but he didn't want her to come off badly. Sure, he could tell George and Bill and Ron that nothing had happened but he was sure they wouldn't believe him. Percy might, but that was a long shot. _Would he like something to happen?_ That thought rolled around in his brain a bit and the obvious answer was 'yes' but not like this. She did intrigue him, more than any woman he'd met in years, but she was just coming out of a divorce. Not only that, a _wizarding_ divorce which was quite difficult to procure and didn't happen very often. It would be very bad form to make a move on her like that. And then there was his history, and if history had shown him anything it was that he wasn't very successful with females. Female dragons, yes. Females of the witch kind? Not so much.

"I can't sleep."

Her voice was soft, but it jerked Charlie out of his reverie. "Me too." After a long silence he took a breath and rolled over on his side, facing her. "So tell me about Ice Pixies."

She rolled over on her side towards him and moved her hair out of her face. "There's only one reference, in a very old letter from a wizard to his wife. Daddy found it in a box of books he bought at an auction. They were fascinating, books of legends and creatures. The book that we found the letter in was a cookbook, though. Our guess is that his wife used the letter to mark her place and forgot about it. The wizard, Arnold, we don't know his last name, said he encountered them in the Carpathians when he was looking for the Dracul worm."

Charlie chuckled. "Yeah, that old legend. A Romanian dragon that lived off the blood of other dragons. Old Ilsa still likes to tell those stories at night, usually for the rookie keepers. They didn't really exist, you know."

"Perhaps." She raised an eyebrow. "But there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

"Shakespeare? You've read that?"

"Hasn't everybody?"

"Nah, not witches and wizards. I've been through pretty much the entire library at the Reserve. So he was looking for the Dracul worm..."

"Yes, right." She wiggled closer. "It was while he was looking for fresh water in the mountains that he found a little stream, mostly frozen over. That's when he saw them, in a small patch of water that wasn't quite solid. The only problem was when they realised he was there they went invisible and he never could find them again."

"Invisible, that's a problem. Kind of hard to find something that isn't there."

"Difficult, but not impossible. There are many things that seem impossible but once you try looking at things differently good things happen. Just like tonight, I'm sure you thought your trip up here was going to be something completely different and now look, you're here with me."

"Very true." He ran a hand over his beard to dig out another pixie. "I'm glad, actually. Kept me from being at the Christmas party."

"And Magda?"

He opened his mouth to say something but stopped. Ron was right, every now and then she said something that made you think. "Yeah, and Magda. That didn't end well."

"It doesn't help to dwell on things that have gone wrong. For the longest time I was very sad about Rolf but then I decided that it didn't go wrong, it just stopped and gave me different opportunities. I think you should look at your breakup with Magda that way. Were you happy at the end? Before the breakup?"

"No." He was quiet for a moment. "No, not really. If anything when we broke up it was a relief as it seemed like there was nothing we could do to make each other happy anymore, just mad at each other."

"See? That means the breakup gave you a chance to be happy in a different way." She moved forward and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. "Everybody should be happy and now you have that chance. Good night."

"Thanks, Luna. And good night."

-ooo-

Charlie woke early, as usual. Part of the keeper's habit. For a brief moment he was disoriented as he wasn't in his cabin, he wasn't in his bed and something was wiggling against his ear. He reached up and pulled out a pixie, flicked it towards the end of the bed and everything came back to him. Finding Luna in the snowstorm, the pixies, but most of all the conversation from early morning.

She was right. It didn't do any good to dwell on what went wrong with Magda, he needed to move on. Unconsciously his thoughts went back to Luna walking away from him in a t-shirt from the previous night and something he hadn't felt in ages crept over him; hope. Hope that he might not be a hermit, bachelor keeper forever. Finding someone who understood what a keeper's life was like was almost impossible, but Luna got it. She was also very perceptive when it came to things, with her almost uncanny way of stating things that made him think.

He sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and felt the slight chill in the air. The warming charms had mostly failed during the night, only barely putting out any heat. And then, from the corner of his eye, he saw the plant. Sometime while they slept it had grown. A lot. Instead of the spindly little plant with a couple of buds it had grown into a rather decently-sized evergreen tree, it's roots overflowing from the little pot and sinking down into the floor, through the oriental rugs into the soil. More than that, though, the boughs were filled with mistletoe.

"Merlin's pants!" He threw off the duvet and covers and swung his feet over the end of the bed. "Luna, it bloomed."

"Hmmm..." Luna rolled over, causing several pixies to quickly dislodge themselves from her hair and flit away. "What..."

"It's...a tree, I guess."

Rubbing her eyes Luna sat up. "Oooooh! Charlie! We have a Christmas tree!"

Before he could act he felt her up against his back, her arms around his shoulders. "Yeah, I guess we do." He swallowed and swivelled around to face her. "And mistletoe."

"Happy Christmas, Charlie."

"Happy Christmas, Luna."

It was a kiss that Charlie felt deep into his toes, a warmth that belied the chill in the tent. Holding her, kissing her gave him a sense of comfort that he didn't know was possible. When they ended the kiss she laid her head on his shoulder, holding him close.

"Luna..."

"Shhh." She shook her head ever so slightly. "It worked, but I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" His tone was slightly miffed. "Why are you sorry, I'm not."

"I'm sorry because I think Neville's plant acted for me instead of you."

He laughed. "Nah, I think it worked for both of us."

-ooo-

On Boxing Day, after the storm had subsided, Yvgeny sat at his desk sipping coffee. The rotation for the keepers would need to be altered to give Weasley his Christmas break, since his holiday was ruined by his task. He was sure the English keeper would be in a foul mood, but at least he hadn't had to endure Magda and her new boyfriend. That would have put Weasley in a dark humour and he was no fun to be around like that.

"Boss?" Yun, the Korean keeper, stuck his head in his office. "Weasley's on his way in, almost here. We saw him and Runt coming down the mountain, but he's got someone with him."

"Hmmph." Yvgeny sat down his quill. "I'm sure it will be a good story. We will have to cook something nice for the woman, as she will have had a long walk."

"No." Yun shook his head. "No, Weasley's walking. The woman is on Runt."

"What?" Yvgeny stood up from his chair. "This I have to see."

The Head Keeper wasn't the only one watching for Runt's arrival, as all of the keepers not on duty were outside, huddled together, their breath creating a small wreath of fog. Slowly they came closer, Charlie walking alongside Runt while a woman in the most garish coat and stocking cap rode on top of the Thrum, her head almost resting between Runt's massive horns.

Ilsa, the old Romanian woman who kept the books walked over to Yvgeny and elbowed him. "Looks like Weasley has found something, yes?"

He brushed her off. "Yes, yes, it's the English witch. The magical zoologist."

"And she's riding Runt."

"I can see that, Ilsa."

After entering the Thrum paddock Charlie helped Luna down and began the process of taking things off of Runt. Everyone crowded around, finally parting for Yvgeny and Ilsa.

"Hey boss." Charlie sat down Runt's saddle with a thump. "This is Luna Lovegood."

"Miss Lovegood, welcome to the Reserve." Yvgeny came forward. "This is when I would usually yell at those who trip the wards and remove my keeper from his rotation but I do not feel that is necessary, is it?"

"Oh no, thank you." Luna shook his hand. "I'm ever so sorry for trespassing."

He waved her off. "It is fine, fine. Come now, you must be hungry."

"I'm hungry." Charlie poked his head around Runt. "Anything left?"

Ilsa came forward and took Luna by the arm. "Ignore Weasley, he is always hungry. Come, we warm you up."

Soon the galley was filled to almost bursting with people, all gathered around to hear the story. For the most part Charlie and Luna told them what happened, only omitting certain things that they wanted to keep private. As the room began to warm Luna took off her coat, releasing all of the pixies which she had stowed away next to her body to keep warm.

As the pixies flew every direction Ilsa chuckled. "Only you would bring one of the blessed, Charlie. Very good omen."

"Oh?" Luna looked towards the old woman. "Whatever do you mean?"

As most of the keepers groaned, having heard Ilsa's stories many times over, Charlie found himself more interested than ever before. He moved closer to Luna and pulled one of the pixie stragglers off of her scarf. "Ilsa?"

"The pixies are omens of good luck." Ilsa ignored the rolled eyes of the keepers and focused on the woman. "To have one trust you shows great kindness, but so many? It is said that one favoured by pixies will have many blessings. You, my child, may one day even see the nahrglez."

"Nargles?" Luna sat up very straight. "You know about Nargles?"

Ilsa nodded, beaming. "They are called nahrglez in our tongue, very mysterious. It is said that they give birth in..."

"...almost freezing water and can go invisible?" Luna was almost bouncing in her seat. "They're really real?"

"Of course!" Ilsa nodded vigorously. "Of course they are real, but they do not appear unless one is pure of heart."

"They're real!" Luna threw her arms around Charlie and gave him a very big kiss. "This is the best Christmas present ever!"

Yvgeny and Ilsa shooed the rest of the keepers out of the galley, leaving the two countrymen alone. After eating Charlie and Luna went back to his cabin. They didn't emerge for another two days.

-ooo-

Christmas is a time of tradition. Families lovingly perform the same actions, decorating, cooking, spending time with each other. For Charlie and Luna Christmas was always a special time, as they would mount Runt and begin the long trek up the mountain. The tent was unusable after the tree had taken root, so they did the only thing that seemed logical; they built a little house around the tree. They didn't stay there very often, only on special occasions or when they needed time alone, but every Christmas they returned. Occasionally family members would join them, and the first year that Molly and Arthur celebrated Christmas with them was one of the happiest in Molly's memories.

Charlie and Luna's daughters always thought the little house way up in the mountain was the best place in the world. Even when they were grown and with families of their own they returned back to Romania and spent Christmas Eve at the little house. Tradition must be followed, of course.

Back in England Neville Longbottom, as he did every year, received a very large Christmas shipment of the best dragon dung fertilizer and other magical plants from Luna's travels. His greenhouses were the envy of all.

 **A/N: Written for Camillablue for the TLX Christmas Exchange.**


End file.
